Phantom [h.s]

Twenty Nine

Harry and I stop kissing once I run out of breath and pull away, confusion crossing his face before he remembers that I have lungs to fill and cells to oxygenate. I take a deep breath, short on air from the kiss and from the way he stares at me, something behind his eyes that I can't quite read. A smile spreads across his face and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

His dimples show as he looks down briefly and then back at me. "You kiss by the book," he says and I immediately recognize the Romeo and Juliet reference.

I match his smile, letting out a small laugh. "That's Juliet's line, dear Romeo."

"I just called you a good kisser, Juliet, take it or leave it."

I smile. "If only you had felt it." My smile fades and so does his, and silence fills the room for a short moment. Nice going, my mind scoffs at me. You ruined a perfectly lovely conversation. Well done, really well done.

Harry breaks the silence.

"Hey, I felt it all in spirit."

I look at him.

He bites his lip to suppress his silly smile. "Get it? Spirit? As in ghost? Spirit?"

I blink and try to hide my laugh at yet another one of Harry's jokes about being dead. I shake my head at him as he laughs at himself beside me, causing my own laugh to escape me.

The rain has begun to fall a bit softer, but not by much, and the sound of the water drops hitting the house still echoes. The wind has picked up outside, howling and whistling through the trees.

I look at my bedside clock. It's past eleven, and I have school in the morning. Harry sees me looking at the time and half smiles.

"You should sleep," he says. "You're tired."

"I am," I agree, almost groaning. "I'm exhausted."

Harry smiles, standing up and walking over to the closet. "Where do you keep your extra blankets?"

I watch him, a bit confused. "Second shelf on the right."

He nods and pulls a soft purple blanket out, shutting the closet door behind him. He nods to me. "Get under the covers. You might need this." He unfolds the blanket, holding it up in front of him.

I comply, sliding into bed and watching Harry lay the blanket neatly on top of my comforter.

"Are you staying?" I ask him, a jolt of hopefulness shooting through me.

"Yep," he answers, smiling and walking over to the small loveseat placed by the window of my room. He sits, spreading his arms out over the top of it and grinning at me.

I watch him for a moment, my heart lifted. "You know you don't have to," I say.

"I'd like to. Do you not want me to?"

"Of course I do. I always do."

Harry's cheekbones lift in a delicate smile as I blush. He always does that, I notice. Whenever I blush, he smiles.

"Then I'll be right here," he says, patting the arm of the loveseat, his smile never faltering.

A sudden gust of wind slams the house, making me jump ever so slightly at the harshness of it.

"Go to sleep, Jane." Harry's tone is soft and soothing, only adding to my sleepiness.

I nod and reach over to turn off the light on my nightstand, darkness filling the room instantaneously. I yawn, shutting my eyes and listening to the rain.